The Final Blow
by Tahyldras
Summary: Merlin finally realises the truth.
1. Chapter 1

For so long, for so many years I served him. Let him beat me and humiliate me, each harsh word and unnecessary blow slowly stripping me of my faith in him. All in service of a future foretold by a conniving and manipulative dragon. A future that will never come to pass.

He ordered a girl executed, little more than a child. Based on the most circumstantial evidence, too. But, that's not what made me realise just how futile staying in Camelot was. Not completely. It was the way Arthur delivered the verdict. How was it he once put it? 'Immediately and without hesitation'. And without the merest trace of remorse. Even Uther, at the height of his rage, showed some small amount of regret. Buried so very deeply, and for his own actions, but regret nonetheless. But what I saw in Arthur's eyes; it scared me.

So I fled. I saved the girl. Took her to safety in Mercia. Then I sought you out. To tell you... to tell you that you were right. All along, you were right. To tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lying to you. For not seeing the truth sooner. For everything.

If you let me, I will stand beside you. Fight for you, and for our people. We can take Camelot. Together.


	2. Chapter 2

The king looks up as the door bursts open. A red-faced and out of breath knight rushes into the study.

"Sire! We found him! We found Merlin!" the knight hesitates for a moment, "But... something's different. Something's wrong." he continues, concern showing clearly on the man's face. Arthur brushes aside the twinge of worry at the knight's words.

"Where is he?" he asks, leaping to his feet, eager to see his long-missing friend.

"He's waiting for you, sire. In the Throne Room." Arthur's worry returns tenfold.

"The Throne Room?" he queries, making sure he hadn't misheard.

"Yes sire. His request.". Arthur stays silent for a moment. Merlin wouldn't have wanted to stay in the Throne Room after so long.

"He vanishes for two years, and waits for me in the Throne Room?! Something is definitely not right." with that, Arthur strides past the knight, towards the door.

"Sire?" the knight calls out to the king's back. "Be careful. He's... dangerous.". Arthur simply nods and continues onward without a further word.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur strides through a side door to the Throne Room, determined to get to the bottom of Merlin's disappearance. He stops abruptly at the sight facing him; Merlin, bedecked in an ornate purple robe. He stands facing Arthur and Guinevere's thrones with a serious, almost contemplative look on his face. The sound of Arthur's steps brings him out of his reverie. Looking up, he sees the king standing there and plasters a massive grin on his face.

"Arthur!" he exclaims, throwing his arms out as if to embrace the blonde king. "How good it is to see you again!" he finishes, his grin seemingly not reaching his eyes.

Arthur pauses a moment in surprise at Merlin's obviously expensive attire. That robe must have cost more than the former servant had previously earned in a year. But what was revealed to be under the robe worried Arthur far more than the apparent riches the black haired man now displayed. Revealed when Merlin flung his arms out, alongside the now incongruously tatty red scarf, was a vest of chainmail whose links seemed too small and delicate to be anything but a detriment in battle. Yet it bore numerous scratches and nicks that so often his own armour bore after a particularly rough patrol. That implied it was enchanted! … No, that's preposterous. Merlin hates magic as much as I. Doesn't he?

"' How good it is to see you again'?!" He barks, recovering from his shock. Is that all you have to say?! Two bloody years! Not knowing for sure if you had run off or had been taken! And now you waltz in here, dressed and acting like some arrogant noble who hasn't happened to visit in a few years!"

"Well, forgive me for not greeting you like I would a brother, Arthur. That's unlikely to happen again; not after your actions two years ago and since. Tell me, do you even remember her name? Did you even bother to ask it?" Merlin speaks, voice staying calm and even whilst a cold rage burned behind his eyes.

"What? Who's name? Two years-" Arthur starts before a sudden realisation causes anger to flare inside him. Despite his insistence otherwise, Merlin's disappearance and the sorceress' escape were linked. "YOU!" he shouted, advancing on the finely dressed former servant. "You! You helped that sorceress escape! Why?" the king demanded, needing an explanation for his best friend's betrayal.

"I have been wondering what is the cause of this blindspot you always seemed to have when it comes to me. Before, I almost thought you already knew and were simply waiting for me to tell you in my own time. But now? Now I think it's more personal. It would certainly explain the lack of any heirs, too. Especially after being married for more than five years." Merlin mocks, passing by the thrones and running his down one armrest, as if he were caressing the ornately carved wood. Arthur bristles at the implication of Merlin's words. Merlin cuts off any of Arthur's refutations by continuing to speak. "And I would have hardly called the girl a sorceress." Merlin turns to face Arthur. "She was using almost all of her power to lift a simple needle and thread. Trying to help her mother by earning some extra coin."

Arthur's confusion at Merlin's bizarre appearance, behaviour and words flashes to anger at the former servant's defence of magic. "Magic is evil!" he yells. "In all its forms, no matter the size or the use! It is a cancer th-"

"_S__ā__lnes._" Merlin's single word robs the blonde king of his voice and ability to move, leaving him a silent statue standing before the thrones, his face contorted with rage and his eyes filled with betrayal. This final piece of the puzzle drops into place and everything finally makes sense. From Merlin's confident confrontations in the first days they met, his utter lack of fear in situations that would have sent others scurrying for the trees, to his increasingly frightening actions today.

"I am truly sorry it had to come to this." Merlin stands in front of the immobile king, a measure of regret tangible in his voice. "But Uther's influence upon you was rooted too deeply. I allowed your own angers to fester too long. It is now time for a new ruler; one who will be fair to all of our people." Merlin looks past Arthur, and stretches his arm out to the source of the footsteps now emanating from behind the blonde man. "Isn't that right, my Queen?"

"Indeed it is, my King." comes Morgana's accented voice as she saunters into the now former king's view. Reaching the new king, she wraps an arm wound his waist. "And we shall rule all of Albion. For now and forever. Together."

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Author's Note:

My thanks and apologies to those patiently waiting for me to conclude this story. A combination of real life and procrastination delayed this final chapter. I appreciate every single follow, favourite and review more than you can realise.

To anyone still waiting, I will be marking "Mistakes and Conversations" as complete as I cannot seem to write anything I am remotely happy with to continue it and I believe it will work best as a one-shot, anyway. I am, however, working on a much longer multi-chapter story with a Merlin/Morgana pairing entitled "Lifetime in a Moment". I might be a while with that one, though, as my head is also full of a multitude of other stories from several different fandoms, including Fallout, Dishonored and The Elder Scrolls.

Again, your patients is much appreciated, as is your constructive criticisms.

Tahyldras


	4. Epilogue

Even after decades, I still remember the Millennial Parade pass through my town as if it were yesterday. I remember having to sit on my dear father's shoulders as I was too short to see past the crowd. I remember the soft, sibilant music that came from everywhere, and nowhere. But most of all, I remember everything fading into the background; the sourceless music, the opulent carriages, even the glittering lights of the Lunar Cities, at the sight of our High Queen and High King.

High Queen Morrigan, daughter of Uther Pendragon, High Priestess and Seer beyond equal. Widely hailed as the most beautiful woman in the entire Empire of Albion. Clad in a dress of regal purple, she sat atop her Royal Carriage and basked in the adulation of the gathered thousands.

Sat beside her was the single most powerful magical entity in existence; High King Myrrdin. Straight-backed and stern-eyed, the only hint of his humble beginnings was a tatty neckerchief wrapped around his neck. Centuries of rule is often said to have robbed him of his once-jovial personality, but after being accorded the honour of getting to know the Royal Family as Court Historian, I can say with confidence that this is not true.

As the first Court Historian, it has been my pleasure to collect and collate many hundreds of texts, from all corners of the Empire, documenting the history of the Empire of Albion. From Geoffrey of Monmouth's writings of Uther and Arthur's reigns in Camelot to modern works by great men such as Galileo Galilei and William Shakespeare.

The result is what I consider the most comprehensive history of our civilisation, from its beginnings as a small kingdom on the Isle of Britannia to the vast Empire spanning multiple worlds, fuelled by both magical power and scientific ingenuity.

I have written about the collapsed society of the Romans resisting the spreading influence of what was, to them, but a small part of their ill-fated Empire. I have written about our monarchs' Great Expeditions to learn from magi in far-flung corners of Terra, such as the Dreamtime Walkers of Terra Australis, and the Medicine Men of the New World. But most of all, I have written about how time and again, kingdoms and nations stood apart from the Empire, only for them to destroy themselves in vain defiance of the Pax Albionica.

I dread to think what the world would be like had Morrigan and Myrrdin not taken the Throne of Camelot from the misguided Arthur Pendragon. It would likely be a fractious world, riven with rivalries and hatreds, controlled by manipulators who use myth and superstition to scare the people into following their rule. Some estimate that it would take the world another four hundred years to send people to Luna, a time when our first City of Luna would be more than six hundred years old. I have even heard assertions that a world like that would be utterly devoid of magic. Such a world would be a bleak place indeed.

* * *

Author's Note:

I didn't expect that I would be adding to this story, but after this little idea popped into my head it begged to be put to paper.

In my head the unnamed Court Historian is writing this at about the end of the 16th Century, 1590 or so, with the parade to celebrate a thousand years of Morgana and Merlin's rule approximately sixty years prior, about 1530. That makes the TV series starting in about 520, which is a year I pretty much just plucked out of the sky.

Whilst I am aware that, as far as I know, all of the spells etc. in Merlin were Old English, I simply couldn't resist using the Latin terms for things like the Earth, or our moon, mainly to help highlight how different this world's history had been to ours. I also used other names sometimes used in Arthurian mythology for Morgana and Merlin because, well, it felt right. A thousand years had passed, after all.

If anyone would like to expand on anything I mentioned in this story, or any other story, please feel free, but I do ask that you let me know so I can read it myself.

Many thanks for reading and any criticisms you may have,

Tahyldras


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